In Flagrante Delecto
by lachlanrose
Summary: The after effects of a difficult mission have some unanticipated repercussions. S/J, W/R
1. In the Dark

**Title: **In Flagrante Delecto  
**Author:** lachlanrose  
**Disclaimer:** Not mine. Never were. Never will be. Damn.  
**Feedback:** Sure, why not? I'm feeling lucky today. ;)  
**Summary:** The after effects of a difficult mission have some unanticipated repercussions. S/J, L/M  
**Notes:** This fic was inspired by Terri's 'Good Girl'. (Specifically, this part: "_Scott must realize exactly how mortified I am. There was that story about him and Jean being caught a few years ago – the one that has him with his pants down around his ankles and moaning like crazy with Jean in front of him on her knees – maybe he empathizes_…..") At which point, I was besieged by bunnies who demanded I explain the circumstances leading up to, and surrounding, that particular incident and how Scott, ever the tactician, eventually found a way to gain a little leverage over the offending party. Oh, one last thing… this darn bunny mutated on me. (Why am I not surprised?!) The end result is a tad darker than I intended, but hey, that's what the bunny wanted. ::shrug:: It's mainly Scott/Jean but the Logan/Marie portion picks up as we move along...

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**In Flagrante Delecto**

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**In the Dark**

[Four months prior to the rescue of Logan and Marie]

Scott stared at the pile of ungraded history essays on his desk and pushed the empty beer bottle before him with the tip of his pen. It skated over the edge to join its three fellows in the trash with a sharp clank. The smooth brown glass of the fifth bottle touched his lips and he took a long, deep swallow.

How the hell did Charles expect them to be able to do this?

They didn't have the necessary training, the experience, to be mercenaries at night and teachers by day. Even their own government, flawed though it was, knew better than to put soldiers fresh from the battlefield in a classroom situation. They needed time to decompress. _He_ needed time.

Especially after what they'd seen tonight.

They'd heard rumors, of course, but nothing to prepare themselves for what they'd found in that remote lab. It would have turned even the most seasoned soldier's stomach. What it did to their green team was infinitely worse. Acrid bile burned the back of his throat and he was torn between trashing his office and crying himself sick.

Who would have believed the rumors were true? Testing, no, _experimenting_ on mutants? He'd thought humanity beyond such barbarism, thought that places like Auschwitz and Sobibor were a part of their history, not their present. It was almost more than he could process. It wasn't so much the people they'd found there that had shaken him so profoundly, but that the partial records they'd recovered went back nearly thirty years. Thirty _years_. And they were catalogued by number. Not names, numbers. Like animals. Like _things_. The hair on the back of his neck stood on end.

Perhaps Magneto's fears were not so farfetched after all.

396-48-273… 573-45-392… 458-25-243

There were times he wished he didn't have such an affinity for numbers. Page after page, burned into his memory. So many numbers. So very many. Who were they? More to the point, where were they now? And what the hell had happened to them?

He kept turning it over and over in his head. To solve a problem, one must understand the problem. His mind couldn't help but put himself in their place. What horrors would have been visited upon him? How would he deal with it? He had no illusions about what his eyes could do. He still had nightmares about what would happen if his naked gaze touched the world… or touched those he loved. And he didn't know if he'd be strong enough to take his own eyes to prevent his 'gift' from being used as a weapon. He could deal with being blind. He had before. But to purposefully take his sight? His _gift_? The thing that made him 'Cyclops'? He just didn't know…

Though the thought terrified him, it wasn't what turned his blood to ice. It wasn't what made his hands shake and kept him up, drinking beer in his office at three in the morning instead of being upstairs with Jean.

_God, Jean._

It was the thought of those butchers getting a hold of _her_ that tore him up inside. The thought of her suffering at their hands. The thought of her looking out of one of those cells with haunted eyes and a swollen belly. The thought of them touching her both enraged him and terrified him beyond the ability to think rationally. A rarity for the man who was calmness itself under pressure. The thought of being helpless, of being unable to do nothing but watch while they experimented on the woman he loved, impacted him at the most base level.

And now he understood what demons drove men to Erik's cause.

_Men. _

How he hated his own gender at times. Women did not start wars or build labs or lock other women away to be raped and tortured for 'the good of science'. Only men did that. He might never do such things, but he recognized that he, too, carried a piece of that darkness inside him. It raged at him even now, clawing at him with the desire to go and find Jean so he could fuck her hard and deep. Not for his pleasure – or hers, but to prove to her, and to himself, that she belonged to him and no other. A physical demonstration of something intangible. Something to wipe away the terrible thoughts of other men touching her. Hurting her. And how he hated that one small piece of himself that wanted to take her roughly when he knew she needed nothing but tenderness after what she'd seen tonight.

The stack of essays caught his eye. He snorted in disbelief. After what he'd just been through, he was supposed to be able to simply push it all aside and find it within himself to calmly grade a class worth of exams? Christ, what a joke.

He didn't give a tinker's damn about the essays. Caesar, Hannibal, Pyrrhus. None of that knowledge would have done any of the poor souls they'd rescued tonight one bit of good. So many bloodthirsty men. So many needless deaths. So terribly much these children needed to be taught about the world. Things that had nothing to do with reading and writing and everything to do with survival.

His fingers toyed with the neck of the bottle and he took another swallow of the bitter, yeasty liquid. _The kids._ He sighed heavily. He knew they all thought what Xavier's X-Men did was glamorous, and that every mission ended with wild, mind-blowing sex. It made great gossip, and yes, it _had_ happened a time or two. He had to admit, there was something about zipping themselves into that black leather and breaking the sound barrier in an unauthorized aircraft that lent a certain… _excitement_ to post-mission sex, but certainly not _every_ time and especially not tonight. They were all too shaken up. This was the first time he'd ever truly doubted that what they were doing could make a _real _difference, and also the first time that Jean had come back and cried herself to sleep after a mission.

He wasn't much better off. He was afraid to go upstairs. Afraid to touch her tonight. Afraid he wouldn't be able to keep that dark part of himself in check. Afraid to remind her that some parts of him were not gentle. No, it was better he remain here. Even the infamous Summers' control had limits. Yes, better to stay here and get drunk than to remind Jean, in the most intimate way possible, that there were some parts of him no better than the men running that lab.

He was halfway into the sixth beer when Jean's sleepy mental voice interrupted his thoughts.

_{Come to bed, Scott.}_ The voice paused and grew softer. _{I need to feel your arms around me.}_

Despite the dark nature of his thoughts, he smiled. The others never got to see this softer, vulnerable side of her. To them she was always the poised, and somewhat aloof, Dr. Grey. He knew she did her damnedest to appear that way. Jean was very aware that nobody wanted to think of their doctor as anything less than infallible. It weakened their faith that she could heal them. She wore that mask for them, but not for him. At least not _all_ the time.

And to be honest, a part of him liked the idea there were times she needed his strength. As stupid and cliché as it was, a part of him got off on the fact that such a strong woman turned to him for solace and comfort, even though she was several years his senior. That, more than anything, made him feel they were on even footing, that the power between them was equal – if not tipped in his favor, however slightly. Most men liked to feel they were in charge and he was no exception.

The fact that he was a pilot only made that worse. They were notorious for being control freaks, or rather; they prided themselves on the fact that they could affect what went on around them well enough to be able to manipulate a positive outcome when one might not otherwise occur. It was the knowledge that they could, in essence, tempt fate and escape unscathed that made them so self-assured, so cocky – and so damn good at what they did. That part of his nature might not be overt in his everyday dealings with Jean, but at night, behind closed doors… well, that was something altogether different.

_{Scott?}_

He knew she wouldn't push him if he refused to answer. Respecting mental boundaries was one of the first things a well-trained telepath learned. Those rules were a bit more lax between them due to the intimate nature of their relationship, but she understood him and his occasional need for space, both physical and mental.

He might want to be alone, but he wasn't a total asshole. He could at least make the effort to tell the woman he loved 'goodnight' before she fell asleep, especially after the day they'd had. _{Go to bed, sweetheart. I'll be up in a while.}_ And he would, but only _after_ he'd gotten a handle on himself. He was still too wound up and Jean needed softness after the things she'd seen tonight… and at the moment, he was feeling anything but tender.

_{Scott-}_

_{Leave it alone, Jean.}_ There was no anger in his words, just a weary finality. _{Trust me, you don't want me around you with the way I'm feeling right now.}_ He ignored the tingle of arousal he could feel from her through the link as her body reacted to the heat he couldn't quite keep from his mental voice. _{Just go to bed, ok?}_

She was silent a moment. _{You think I don't know what you want?}_

Typical Jean, she always cut right to the heart of the matter. _{No. I think tonight what I want isn't what you need.}_

There was a mental huff of female frustration. _{And I think you should come to bed.}_

Scott was very aware of the fact that her answer did not deny the truth in his words. And he loved her all the more for it – both because she was willing to give him what he wanted, and because she wouldn't pretend what he wanted was what she wanted just to make him feel better. He knew it wasn't rough, wild sex she craved, but simply to be held. That she was willing to give him that, to be strong for him when he needed it, was part of what made them 'fit' so well together. True give and take. Tonight, however, he had no intentions of taking a damn thing from her.

_{Stubborn woman.}_

Upstairs in their bed, Jean smiled at the touch of amusement in his words. She knew he wouldn't be joining her – at least not for sex, but she was aware their brief exchange had considerably lightened his black mood. And for now, that was enough.

_{I'll be up later.}_ He could feel Jean begin to relax now that she knew he was ok. _{And I promise I'll cuddle you all you want when I get there.}_

_{You better, mister.}_

Scott chuckled in spite of himself. _{To bed, woman. Let me brood in peace.}_ And then more softly, _{I love you.}_

_{I love you too, Scott.}_

He knew she did, could feel it warm and comforting through the link they shared, soothing the demons the mission had stirred within him. She was quiet, but he could feel her lingering along the edges of his consciousness. He sighed heavily. He should have known she wouldn't give up so easily. She was as stubborn as he was.

_{You're not like them, you know – those men in the lab.}_

_{Not exactly like them, no.}_ Not exactly, but enough.

_{Not __**anything**__ like them.}_

God, how he wished that were true. _{Enough that we both know you're better off if I stay down here-}_

_{Like hell, I am!} _

_{Christ, Jean. Just leave it alone!} _Despite what everyone said about the infamous Summers' control, he did have a temper and he was rapidly losing it.

_{No. Not until you get it through that thick flyboy skull of yours that wanting me that way doesn't make you like them.}_

Something inside him snapped. _{Yeah?}_ It was more a snarl than a word. _{'Wanting you that way'. Call a spade, a spade, for christsake. I want to fuck you. Not making love. Not sex. Fucking.} _He wanted to shock her, to show her he did have a little of that darkness in him, regardless of what she thought. He wasn't a saint; he was just a man – with all of a man's failings.

His next words were deliberately vulgar. _{And maybe I want more than that. Maybe I want to see you on your knees in front of me. Maybe I want to watch you suck me off with that pretty red mouth of yours. Maybe the dark part of me you don't want to acknowledge gets off on the fact that I'm stronger than you and that I like seeing you in that traditionally subservient position - that I like knowing you only do that for me. Maybe-}_

_{Well, maybe I like it, too!}_ She could tell from his abrupt silence, her heated comment had caught him off guard. _Good._

_{What the hell are you talking about?}_ She wasn't making sense. He knew Jean had an intense dislike for men who used sex to subjugate their partners. It was, in part, why he hadn't shared this side of himself with her in all the time they'd been together, but then again, it hadn't always been as prominent as it was now that he'd found himself on the front lines of a battle that had suddenly hit a little too close to home.

_{This isn't about sex, Scott. It's about power.}_

_{Semantics.}_ His mental voice held the arrogant tone of a man who felt confidant he'd proved his point.

God, she hated arguing with him. Intelligent men could be incredibly frustrating. But then again, so could intelligent women. _{You're deliberately being obtuse. I meant what I said.} _

_{Bullshit. I don't believe for a minute that you'd enjoy what I just described.} _

_{Well, you'd be wrong.}_

_{Excuse me?}_ His tone was clearly disbelieving.

_{Did you ever consider that sometimes I want to feel you being that way with me? That I need it just as much as you do?}_

_{What in God's name for?}_

Jean took a moment to gather her thoughts. _{Maybe a part of me needs to feel you out of control, needs to feel your strength, needs to feel possessed. Maybe I need that raw physical expression to feel like I'm completely yours. To really feel your power and know that the man I chose is strong enough to protect what's his.}_

_{Jesus, Jean.}_

She could feel his shock ripple outward through their link. It was always so whenever something she said made him see things from an entirely new perspective. It was another variable for him to consider. Another angle he needed to take some time to study so he could understand it from all sides. So he could see how it could affect him and how he could affect it in turn. Scott was nothing, if not predictable – at least when it came to processing new information, and Jean had long since gotten used to being subjected to Scott's tactical analysis.

Jean shrugged. Hell, in for a penny, in for a pound. _{The truth is, what I saw tonight scared me. Not just as a doctor, but as a woman. And I know as selfish as it sounds, I felt safer because of you. Because I know how strong you are and I know you'd do everything you could to protect me from them.}_

She could almost hear the wheels turning in his brain as he processed that. Sensing he was wavering, she decided to put all her cards on the table, and this time it was Jean's words that were deliberately vulgar. _{I'm not saying that it's all I ever want, but there are times – not tonight – but times that I just want to feel taken. To feel fucked. To be totally in your power.}_ She was a strong woman in her own right, but she liked the way being on her knees in front of him felt, and a part of that had nothing to do with sex, and everything to do with power. Both his and hers. _{There's a part of it that's not about sex or about making each other come. It's about taking you inside my body or inside my mouth to reaffirm a connection with you I can't make any other way.}_

Her words had him reeling. _{God, Jean. Why didn't you ever tell me any of this before?}_

_{Because you never refused to come to bed before, and I guess I never really felt like I needed - or wanted - a man to protect me before.}_

_{Never?}_ He could think of a few times, even before they'd started going out on missions, where Jean had relied on him that way. Little things, like moving closer to him when they walked a dark, unfamiliar street or casually taking his hand or touching him with that vibe that all women seemed to be able to give off when they wanted to. The one that said to other men, 'hey you can look, but he'll keep you from touching'.

_{Well, ok, not __**never**__, but since we started going on missions… It's just more-}_

_{Prominent?}_

_{Exactly.}_

Scott was quiet a long time. _{Do you really think it's that simple? What you described sounds an awful lot like basic animal behavior to me.}_

It was, but she wanted to hear his thoughts on it. _{What do you think?}_

_{It sounds to me like the male felt his female was in danger of being taken away from him so he wanted to reestablish his claim on her in the most elemental way he could, and the female felt threatened so she wanted to reaffirm the virility of the male she'd chosen.}_ He paused. _{How am I doing so far?}_

_{Pretty good for a guy who has his head in the clouds every chance he gets.}_

_{Hey, I do look down every once in a while.}_ His teasing tone grew more serious. _{It doesn't bother you? The – hell, I don't know – the more… animalistic… qualities inherent in our relationship?} _

_{Not really.}_ She was a doctor. The nature of biological things was something she understood at the most basic level. _{Why should it? We are animals after all, thinking animals, but animals just the same. We may be able to reason, but we're still creatures driven by instinct and basic male/female behaviors hardwired into us.}_ Her next words were tinged with wry amusement._ {I guess we're just not as far out of the cave as we thought.}_

His laughter was rich and warm. _{Me Tarzan, you Jean.}_

_{Only if you wear a loincloth, flyboy.}_

_{Funny… but I'll pass, thanks. Clashes with the visor, you know.}_ He laughed aloud and a little heat crept back into his voice. _{But I could probably manage to find some sort of 'vine' for you to wrap your hands around-}_

_{Just my hands?} _

Her silvery laughter skittered through his mind, but her teasing words roused a dangerous heat inside him. _{You're a menace.}_ He was silent a moment. _{Now take yourself, and that dirty mind I love so much, and go to bed, sweetheart.}_

She could tell that although his tone was light, he still wasn't ready to join her. _{Still want to brood a bit?} _She figured he would. She'd given him a lot to think about tonight.

_{Yeah, I just…}_ He just wanted some time to think. To wrap his mind around everything they'd talked about tonight – and some time to just decompress.

_{I know. It's ok, really. But next time...}_

_{Next time?}_ The way she'd said that piqued his interest, as he was sure she'd intended.

_{Uh-huh. Next time you feel like this, no brooding all night in your office. Next time, come to bed or I'll track you down myself.}_

He didn't know exactly what to say to that comment. He wasn't going to promise her anything he wasn't sure he could keep, but thankfully, she seemed to understand that and in the way of countless established relationships, they fell into a comfortable silence.

Her last words had been teasing, but he could sense the seriousness underneath, and he knew next time this happened the results would be very different indeed. He couldn't quite say he was looking forward to it, but he realized it was something they were both going to have to deal with if they wanted their relationship to survive being part of the X-Men. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly as his fingers peeled the label from the bottle in his hands.

For a time, they were simply content to enjoy the shared mental silence, but eventually two wry, sleepy words echoed in his mind. _{'Night, Tarzan.}_

He reached for another beer and smiled. _{'Night, Jean.}_


	2. Conversations in Nuance

**Conversations in Nuance**

[In the hours after Logan regains consciousness in the med lab, but before he leaves Westchester.]

Scott stared at the beer in his hand and the pile of ungraded exams on the corner of his desk. This midnight brooding of his was getting to be a habit. A bad one. And for once, he really didn't give a shit. He took a long pull from the bottle. It hadn't been this bad in a while, though. Not for months. And unlike that last time, he didn't feel like crying. No, this time he felt like breaking something.

Or someone.

It wasn't the kind of anger that one blew off in the Danger Room. Oh, no. It was the slow simmering variety. The kind that lingered despite all efforts to channel it elsewhere. The kind that bubbled quietly on the back burner and erupted at unexpected moments. The kind that put him in a black mood that most often took the form of dark humor, but had a tendency to turn ugly, like when the playful roughhousing between two powerful dogs suddenly became a vicious fight for no apparent reason.

Yeah, that was how he felt. He wasn't spoiling for a fight any more than those two dogs were, but that didn't mean it couldn't happen. He sighed heavily and rubbed at his temples. He hated feeling this way – so unsettled, so out of control. Like he was being pulled in a hundred directions at once. Leader, teacher, lover, pilot, fiancé, role model… If he didn't get a handle on himself, he was headed for one catastrophic crash and burn.

The events of the last few days had not only added to the burden he carried on his shoulders, but fueled the forces that seemed to be pulling him in diametrically opposing directions. In addition to their tactical failures, there was also the matter of Logan. For a man who liked to understand things from all possible angles, Logan was the very definition of unquantifiable. A true wildcard in every sense of the word. And a true pain in Scott's ass.

He was torn between feeling sorry for a man who'd been through the worst kind of hell imaginable, and taking him up on the challenge clearly visible in his cocky, insubordinate gaze. And make no mistake, a challenge _had_ been issued. As far as Scott was concerned, it was really quite simple. For as much as his heart ached for the things Logan suffered in that lab, and as much as he respected him for risking his life to save Rogue, he just didn't appreciate the way Logan was with Jean.

Scott wasn't clueless any more than he was naïve. He was a man first, and a leader second. He might seem to some to be so involved with work that he missed certain things, but a man always noticed when another man was interested in his woman. Always. Yes, there had definitely been an undercurrent of attraction there. Which in itself didn't amount to much, but this was the first time in years that Jean had been attracted back. Scott rolled the empty beer bottle between his palms.

_Fuck. _

His temper bubbled up without warning and he flung the empty bottle at the far wall with as much force as he could. It shattered against the wainscoting with a sharp, satisfying crash. The thousands of shards now covering the floor on that side of the room were going to be a bitch to clean up, but at least he felt better. Marginally.

A dark smile touched his lips. Sometimes it felt very, very good to just let go. To just be a man instead of the 'Fearless Leader'. He wondered what the kids would think if they saw 'Mr. Stick-Up-The-Ass-Summers' lose his shit. He certainly felt like it often enough. Hell, it would probably do his reputation some good. But then again, someone around here had to be the heavy. He sighed again.

As much as they hated it, he knew these kids needed the discipline and security his solid, unwavering presence gave them. No, it probably wouldn't be good for them to know he was just as wild as they were – and that the only difference was that he had bigger toys and was better at not getting caught. And fuck all if one day he didn't buzz the school just to give them something to think about.

But right now, it really wasn't his reputation with the kids or the stack of ungraded exams that had him brooding. It was Jean. Or rather, Jean and Logan. It wasn't that he disliked Logan, or that he was mad at Jean… _much_. He was aware that being in a committed relationship didn't suddenly make everyone else on the planet unattractive. Lord knows he'd struggled with his fair share of that himself. And there were times he was intensely glad his glasses hid the direction of his gaze. Like when 'Ro wore that scrap of white fabric she called a bikini.

He'd thought at twenty-five, he was beyond getting a hard-on from simply looking at a pretty woman in a bikini. So much for that theory. 'Ro, of course, had handled it with her usual aplomb. She'd given him the once-over and told him that was the nicest compliment she'd had in quite some time and that if his head whipped around any faster next time, Jean would be treating him for whiplash. And in typical Scott style, he'd flashed her the famous 'Summers' grin' and told her it'd be worth it.

Scott smiled at the memory. He'd always been attracted to powerful women. That didn't change because he was in a committed relationship, but he also understood there were limits to what was acceptable and what wasn't. He'd never crossed those lines. Been tempted? Sure. But never crossed them. Not once. Jean hadn't either. Of that, he was certain. But he also knew it had been a hell of a long time since she'd been _that_ tempted… and if she ever crossed that line, it would be with someone like Logan.

The real shit of it was, he understood. His eyes might only see in shades of red, but they didn't miss much. Sure, Logan had looked at Jean. Had flirted with her. Hell, he might even go for a roll in the hay with her if she was willing, but that's where it ended. Logan might be attracted to Jean, but the looks he gave Rogue were altogether different. And it was _her_ he'd risked his life for.

Yes, he understood all too well. The bottom line was, men liked to look at beautiful women whether they were in a committed relationship or not. Truth be told, there were a few times Scott had looked at 'Ro the way Logan looked at Jean. And if he were single, he'd have probably pushed her a little the same way. But there was a huge difference between lust and love, and despite whatever spark might have flared between Logan and Jean, it was Rogue he watched. She might be too young for him right now, but Scott knew that look. It was in his own eyes whenever he looked at Jean.

_Goddamn biology._

Hormones and hardwired male/female behaviors. Jean was right. They really weren't all that far out of the cave after all… and at the moment, there wasn't much he wanted more than to remind both Jean and Logan just exactly whose woman she was. It might not be 'nice' or 'civilized', but he really didn't care.

It wasn't that he didn't trust Jean. He did. And he certainly didn't want to own her or humiliate her – and himself – with some sort of public pissing contest with Logan. That kind of juvenile behavior was beneath him. But he damn sure wanted to fuck her hard and rough so that there would never be any doubt in her mind – or anyone else's, for that matter – that they were a mated pair. That despite all the shit that went on around them, they belonged together.

And right now, he wanted Jean to feel that connection as physically as she did emotionally. He wanted her to feel his strength, his dominance. He wanted her to wake up beside him tomorrow and feel the sweet ache his touch left lingering on her skin. To feel fucked. Not hurt or belittled, just well loved. Most importantly, he wanted her to know in both her heart and her body that she was his and he was hers.

Scott managed to polish off another two beers before Jean's mental voice jarred him from his reverie.

_{How's the grading going, fearless?}_

Scott snorted at her little joke. One certainly did have to be 'fearless' to grade this crap. _{It's not.}_

_{So come to bed then. It's almost one.}_

_{No.}_ No inflection. No heat. Just a flat denial.

That one little word told her all she needed to know about the current state of his emotions. She also knew he used sarcasm and humor as a way of dealing with his darker feelings, so she tried to lighten his mood a little. _{Rough week?}_

Down in his office, Scott grimaced. _{Yeah, exploding campers, defacing the Statue of Liberty, and of course, giving the train station a new sunroof… Nothing I can't handle.}_

Jean heard Logan's harsh words echoing in Scott's answer and her heart ached for him. Nothing like that had happened to him since his mutation manifested at his high school prom, and it made all those horrible memories come rushing back. The screaming, the gut-wrenching fear he might have hurt someone, the overwhelming feeling of helplessness as he flailed around blindly. He'd taken his failure at the train station hard. Harder than he should have. But that, too, was a part of his nature. He'd always been his own worst critic.

Jean also knew that it bothered him that Logan, someone he considered a potential rival for her affections, had in part witnessed what he considered to be a failure. It also bothered him that the things she'd seen in Logan's head had given her terrifying nightmares every single night since she'd looked into his mind. Nightmares that were so horrific and violent she woke up shaking. Nightmares he could do nothing about. Another perceived failure on his part. And she knew it ate at him that he now had a face to put with those pages of anonymous numbers they'd found in that remote lab. A face that not only brought all those demons back for him, but one he knew she was attracted to. _{So this is about Logan?}_

_Fuck._ There were times he hated that she could read him so well. _{Yes! No. I don't know… Shit.}_ There was a long silence. _{I don't like the way he looks at you, dammit.}_ More silence. _{And I don't like that you look back.}_

Jean's surprise skittered through his mind. Jealous. He was jealous. Lord how she loved this wonderful, frustrating man. _{It's you I love.}_

He said nothing.

_{He dropped me on my ass in my own damn lab, Scott.} _

_{Yeah, but he also checked out that same ass not more than ten minutes later in Charles' office.}_ His words were still angry, but they also carried just a touch of amusement.

Well, that was true. But it hadn't escaped her notice that any looking on his part had happened only after he'd made sure Rogue was safe. If he'd projected his worry over her any louder, even a dead 'path would have heard it. Jean sobered a little. _{Do you honestly think I'd risk what we have just because some guy checked me out?}_

_{No, I don't. I wouldn't give my heart to someone I didn't trust. You know that. But I also know you're attracted to him.}_

_{Yeah, so? How's that any different than you getting a hard-on over 'Ro? You know I was in your mind that day, just like I knew you were in mine the night I showed Logan to his bedroom.}_ Jean paused. _{You didn't cross the line. Neither did I. We both know we wouldn't have, even if the other wasn't 'listening'.}_ Her soft laugher floated through his mind. _{And I do have to admit; I loved what you said to Logan about me being your girl.}_

Scott's cheeks heated and he was glad nobody was there to see it. So he did allow himself one minor pissing contest with Logan. So what? Nobody's perfect. _{You are my girl, Jean.} _

It was true, and regardless of the fact that she held a doctorate and was almost ten years his senior, he always thought of her that way. The pretty redheaded girl he'd finally convinced to go out with him. The sweet, shy girl he'd taken to the movies and romanced with picnics in the New England countryside and long walks on the coast. The not-so-shy, but still sweet girl who could make love so tenderly it brought tears to his eyes as well as the playfully naughty girl who liked to satisfy him in the shower before they went to work. All those things - she would always be _that_ girl to him.

Jean couldn't believe that was how he saw her. 'That girl'? _Girl?_ She hadn't been a girl in a long time. She was stunned - and pleased - that he still saw her that way. What a romantic he was. But she guessed in her own way, she had a little of that romantic in her, too. She imagined he'd still be her knight in shining armor – or black leather as the case may be – even when he was old and gray. Jean smiled as the last of his images faded from her mind. Scott always projected like that when he found things too difficult to say. Even like this, mind-to-mind, he had a hard time sharing his feelings. Especially the deep ones.

_{I love you, you know.} _She paused._ {Always you. Only you.} _

_{I know that. I do. I just-} _He broke off, frustrated.

_{Just what?}_

A little of that anger bubbling on the back burner boiled to the surface. _{I just want you to feel it, ok? I mean __**really**__ feel it. Physically. I want to fuck you so goddamn hard and deep that you feel in your body what you know in your heart, ok? Christ!} _He could tell the vehemence of his outburst had shocked her. _{Shit… Sorry. I'm sorry. I didn't mean for that to come out so…}_

_{Honestly?} _

Scott was always so in control, so careful to measure every word, that he'd become an expert at keeping his true wants and desires hidden – except on the rare occasions he lost his temper. Most men said things they didn't mean when they were furious. With Scott it was just the opposite. In fact, unless one was reading his mind, the only time he ever revealed what he was really feeling, ever spoke without censoring himself, was when he was angry.

As a matter of fact, he'd flung, 'So why don't you marry me, then!' at her in a heated discussion that had started over a comment they'd overheard regarding the nature of their relationship and why on earth a man in his early twenties would want someone 'past her prime'. Of course, he hadn't meant it as a proposal, but she'd accepted it just the same because she knew in her heart of hearts that he meant every last word. Oh, he'd asked her again in grand form several weeks later – on bent knee with ring in hand, but it was his first proposal that she liked to remember, simply because it was filled with every ounce of the volatile passion and emotion he usually kept so rigidly in check.

When several minutes passed with nothing more forthcoming from him, she broke the thick silence. _{Scott?}_

_{Christ, what to you want me to say, Jean?}_ He'd already apologized for the way he'd said it, but he'd be damned if he was going to apologize for speaking the truth, however visceral it may have been. He waited for a response and heard nothing. He didn't think that comment had shocked her into silence if the previous one hadn't, but then again, he'd never really understood the way a woman's mind worked, especially hers. _Crap._ _{Jean?}_

_{Hmmm…?}_

She sounded distracted. _{Are you angry?}_ She didn't feel angry, but Jean rarely dropped out of a conversation like that. She might be cool and aloof to the others, but not so with him. And between the two of them, she was the talker and he was the one who tended to clam up in situations like this. It definitely warranted some investigation.

Jean snorted into his mind. _{Stop analyzing me, flyboy, and come to bed.}_

Now, he'd given some serious thought to the idea of really letting go with her, but being keyed up after a mission was one thing. This - this wanting to put his claim on her because of Logan was something else entirely, and he was feeling far too violent to give in to the desire to be so unrestrained with her. God, look what he'd done to the beer bottle. If that had been Jean- He sighed heavily and leaned back in his chair, staring at the ceiling. _{Just go on to bed, Jean. I don't want to do this tonight.}_

There was a noise from her that sounded suspiciously like mental laugher. _{Liar.}_

_{Dammit, Jean. I'm not in the mood to-}_

This time there was no amusement, only raw heat. _{Yes. Yes, you are.}_ The words got lower, more sensual. _{And I am, too.}_

Heat pooled thick and heavy between his legs, as much from her words as from the tone with which she spoke them. But before he could tell her he was far too close to the edge for her teasing tonight, a shadow fell across the frosted glass of his office door. His unique vision was instantly drawn to the motion. _Shit._ It was one thing to put her off from two floors down. It was quite another when she was here in the flesh. He should have known she'd come. Jean never made idle threats.

Scott reached for his beer, still never taking his eyes from the ceiling as Jean came in and closed the door softly behind her. His fingers tightened on the bottle and he had to forcibly restrain himself from getting up out of the chair, crossing the room, and taking her hard and fast against the wall. He shoved down his desire and tried to force a lightness he didn't feel into his words.

"Watch the glass."

Her mouth twitched as her gaze swept the softly lit room. "Hmm… Had a bit of an accident, did you?"

"You could say that." Scott was fully aware she knew exactly how that glass got there. And even if she didn't, the deep gouges in the wainscoting were a dead giveaway.

"You know, I really should leave that for you to clean up," she paused and grinned back at him, "But I don't feel like picking my way around it tonight." And with that, she made a graceful motion with her hand and the shards of glass rose into the air and deposited themselves in the trash with a soft tinkling sound.

"Hell, if I'd known you were going to do that, I'd have thrown the others." He smiled wider, but it wasn't anywhere close to pleasant.

Jean laughed. "Don't push your luck." Her fleeting amusement disappeared as Scott's head came down and he got his first good look at her. His jaw clenched and his fingers tightened reflexively on the bottle.

God, she made his blood burn. She was wearing one of his dress shirts. Oh, it covered everything and fell nearly to her knees, but the fabric was fine enough that he could see the shadows of her nipples beneath it. He made a masculine noise of appreciation deep in his throat. Jean might own a drawer full of sexy lingerie, but there was something about seeing her in his clothing that drove him wild – and she damn well knew it.

Scott's eyes slid over her appreciatively. Jean was an incredibly sensual woman although she wasn't overtly sexual. That wasn't her style. Even when they went out, she didn't wear short revealing clothing meant to catch a man's eye by exposing miles of leg or an overabundance of cleavage. Make no mistake, she dressed to please, but with a subtle sensuousness that was unique to her.

It was something in the movement of the material she chose. It flowed around her like a lover's caress, drawing his eye to wherever it clung. Silky fabric that begged for a man to touch it, to feel it slide under his fingers and over supple flesh. It was the scent of her skin, the fiery fall of her hair, the graceful way she moved, the hint of nipple visible through an elegant dress. It made a man wonder if he'd really seen it, given the obvious class of the woman in question.

Scott knew it was there, though. Jean might appear to be all culture and class, but she was quite a tease, and she'd always liked tempting him in public. His eyes narrowed. Or semi-public as the case may be.

Her style of seduction appealed to his intelligent, meticulous nature. Glaring displays of sexuality had never interested him because they did nothing to engage his mind. He liked that element of playfulness, of uncertainty. Puzzles had always fascinated him and he lost interest if the answers came too quickly or too easily. It was the same with women.

Jean shifted and his eyes were drawn to the way her body moved under his shirt. She was so different from the other women he knew. She was still sexy and seductive, but without being overt. A fascinating puzzle for him to unravel, even after all this time. Jean was attractive to him because she spoke to him on a different level. It was a conversation in nuance, in the subtle little details that engaged his mind as well as his body.

And that was what made all the difference.

Scott's eyes followed her as she unhurriedly crossed the room and came to stand between his parted knees – in that erotically charged space between his intensely aroused body and the solid, unyielding desk. His intense gaze missed nothing. On the surface, she might appear to be cool and composed, but the little details told a much different story.

It was in the way she moved. In the shadowy glimpse of auburn curls that told him she'd come to him bare underneath his shirt. In her breathing that was controlled, yet still not _quite_ even. His eyes dropped from the pulse beating at the base of her throat. Her nipples were hard. He wet his lips, aware he did so because he was thinking about how they'd feel against his tongue.

Jean was just as conscious of him. The flush of arousal over his cheekbones. The tight set of his mouth. The erection clearly visible under the faded, worn denim. The way his fingers were touching the neck of the bottle in a way that made her body ache.

She turned from him under the pretense of seeing how the grading was coming along. The shirt slipped, baring the long line of her throat and one milky shoulder. Without her glasses, she had to lean closer with that little squint he loved so much, and as she did, her hair brushed forward along her jaw, hiding her face from him.

They were both acutely aware that neither of them gave a damn about the essays he had spread across his desk.

For a heartbeat, neither of them moved. Jean shivered as she heard his chair creak and she felt him stand behind her. The blood pounding in her ears became a dull roar as he leaned in close and placed the bottle on the desk with the overly precise motions of a man clearly on the edge. She felt a prickle of fear that only heightened her anticipation. He'd never been this way with her before and the violent arousal he was projecting excited her. Without a second thought, she fully opened her mind to his.

His fierce, urgent need was electric, arcing immediately through their link, suffusing her body with the same urgent desire. The threatening masculine presence at her back would have terrified her if had been anyone but him. Jean shuddered. She wanted this as badly as he did.

_{Jean.}_ He rasped the word into her mind, part warning, part desperate hunger, and part something wildly exciting she'd never felt from him before.

The shirt slithered into a pool at her feet in answer.

His breath caught in his throat. _{Don't tease me, little girl.}_

She shivered. Little girl. God, that's exactly how she felt. The little girl about to be swallowed up by the big, bad wolf. She was very aware of his physical presence, how much taller and heavier he was. How much more powerful.

His words came again. _{Last chance.}_

Jean nodded. She wanted what was about to happen – and she wanted it like _this_. Rough. Wild. Scott was an incredibly powerful man. It was a part of what made him 'Cyclops', and a part of what attracted her to him. There was no reason for her to be afraid of that power when it came to sex. She trusted him implicitly, both with her life and with her body. And right now, she wanted to experience that power first hand.

One minute ticked by. Then another. Her body trembled with anticipation. Finally she couldn't stand it any longer. _{Scott, please-}_

Scott was torn. One part of him wanted to embrace this experience fully, wanted to believe she'd embraced it as completely as he had, but he couldn't help but test her a little. To give her one last out. Just in case.

_{Put your hands on the desk, Jean.}_ It was a clear order and his tone dared her to defy him.

Without hesitation, Jean pushed the exams from the desk and leaned forward, placing her palms against the cool, slick surface. She jumped when his hands pushed her hair aside and slid slowly, appreciatively down her back. They drifted back up and his body came with them, molding itself to her curves. His breath was hot in her ear and the feeling of his clothed body against her bare one heightened the awareness for each of them. It felt illicit. Exciting.

He smiled knowingly against her throat and slid his hands around to her breasts, kissing his way down her neck before he bit her shoulder sharply. She gasped into his mind at the unexpected sting, even as the warm rasp of his tongue soothed the ache and teased over the mark he'd left. An image flashed in his mind's eye and he chuckled darkly against her skin.

_{I don't think so, sweetheart.}_ He pinched her nipples roughly for good measure. _{This is about what I want, remember?}_

_{Oh, God-}_ His words caused an unexpected rush of damp desire. There was something incredibly arousing about the fact that her normally tender, attentive lover was suddenly touching her for his own selfish desires and that her pleasure was either incidental or for his own gratification.

His hands slipped to her hips and his long fingers stroked the hollows of her hipbones. Without warning, he grabbed them in a forceful grip and pulled them backwards, fitting her firmly against his erection. He panted in her ear as he ground himself against her. The rough friction was an exquisite torture and they both knew what was about to happen wasn't going to be slow or gentle.

Abruptly, Scott stepped back, taking his beer with him. _{Turn around, Jean.}_ He drank the last swallow and watched her watch him. Jean didn't like beer herself, but he knew she loved the way his mouth tasted when he was drinking one. It was one of the weird little quirks that made Jean, Jean. It also happened to be one of the quirks he liked the most. He let his lips linger on the bottle for an overlong moment and noted with satisfaction that her eyes hadn't once left his mouth. He grinned darkly and flung the bottle at the far wall. She jumped at the sharp sound of the bottle shattering, but he only grinned wider and twisted his fingers in her hair as he covered her mouth with his.

The kiss was aggressive and demanding. He pushed his tongue into her mouth and groaned as she greedily suckled it. His body throbbed in response and he tore his mouth from hers, breathing hard. His fingers went to the buttons on his shirt. She moved to help him, but he shook his head. _{Uh-uh. You stay there.}_ He licked the taste of her from his lips as he took a single step back. _{I want to watch you touch yourself.}_

Her face heated and the blush crept down her neck to the tops of her breasts. She might be blushing, but he could feel her arousal spike through the link. Her hands went to her breasts as his shirt hit the floor.

_{God, Scott-}_ She felt wonderfully wicked. His lean, muscular body was the very picture of male tension. He wanted her. It was etched on every angle, every plane, as he watched her hands cup and tease. Muscle and sinew, blood and bone. Connected as they were, she could feel the heavy ache between his legs and his fierce desire to bury himself deep inside her. Her fingers teased over her breastbone and along her flat stomach.

_{Do it. You know what I want to see.}_ His fingers made short work of his belt as he watched Jean's hand slip lower. God, he loved watching her. She was so uninhibited. So sensual. He tossed his belt aside and unbuttoned his jeans, pausing a moment as he lost himself in her intimately erotic display.

_{Mmmmm…}_

Her skin was flush with arousal and she leaned against the desk as her legs began to shake. Through their link, her pleasure swamped him. Pushing his jeans down, he slid his hand under the waistband of his boxers and blunt fingertips met moist aching flesh. Scott stroked himself roughly, milking a few more drops past his closed fist. A touch of amusement flashed through his consciousness as he wondered if she was as slick and as ready as he was.

With a smile of pure seduction, Jean stopped and held her hand out to him. Even in the soft light, he could see her fingers shine. Amusement fled in the face of raw naked desire. He closed the distance between them in one aggressive step and grabbed her wrist, bringing her fingers to his mouth. Her eyes fluttered shut as his tongue rasped over her fingertips and he pressed her other hand to his erection as his husky whisper echoed in her mind.

_{Suck me.} _

She sank to her knees, trailing her wet fingertips down his body, leaving ribbons of fire in their wake as she slowly tugged his boxers down. Her breath stirred the dark curls at his groin and his mouth opened in a soundless shout as wet heat engulfed him. He slid his hands into her hair and cupped the back of her head in his palm to guide her where he wanted. With the link in place, it was unnecessary, but he liked the sheer physicality of it, liked seeing his hands on her and feeling his fingers threaded in her silky hair as her mouth worked him.

Through a haze of intense pleasure, he continued to watch her. Her eyes were closed and her long, slender fingers clutched at his lean hips as they began to rock forward. The contrast between her fiery hair and his pale skin never ceased to fascinate him. He groaned aloud as she suckled him, teasing him with teeth and lips and tongue. She moaned around him and her lashes fluttered as his fingers tightened in her hair.

_{Look at me, Jean.}_

Her eyes, nearly black with pleasure, opened and fixed on the red shades. Raw desire passed between them like an electrical current. There was something intensely intimate about holding his gaze while she pleasured him this way. He was thrusting harder now, watching her lips get fuller and wetter as she took his length again and again.

_{Enough.}_ Scott roughly pulled her to her feet and kissed her hard as he pushed her back towards the desk. _{I want more than that.}_

Jean did too. She wanted to feel him over her, inside her. Wanted to feel his power in the most intimate way possible. She reached for him with body _and_ mind as he positioned her none-too-gently on the desk. She could feel his urgency, and his frustration, as the material around his ankles restricted his movements, but it was far too late to stop now. He pulled her legs up around his hips and moved over her, the width of his shoulders blocking out the light as he leaned into her. He braced one hand on the desk above her right shoulder and slid the other between their bodies. There was no need to check if she was ready for him. He knew she was. It didn't matter anyway. He couldn't have stopped now, even if he wanted to.

He grit his teeth as the hard flesh between his thighs met the softness between hers. There was blunt pressure and then suddenly the overwhelming sense of being engulfed. A strangled groan left his lips and Jean panted against his throat. Her body arched up under his in the ultimate female gesture of acceptance.

_{Oh, God-}_

He wasn't sure if that thought had originated in his mind or in hers. At the moment, he didn't really care. He thrust again, enjoying the feel of her lithe body yielding to his stronger one. A frustrated growl left his lips. His glasses were distracting him as they slid against his sweaty, heated skin with the force of his thrusts. He curled both of his hands over the edge of the desk for leverage, and growled a single command into her mind as he began moving with rough, deep strokes.

_{Glasses. Off. Now.}_

Scott felt her mental query, checking to be sure his deadly eyes were closed before she removed his glasses and floated them to a safe spot on the shelf behind them. He could feel her eyes on his naked face and he knew she'd enjoy watching the play of emotions across his features. He almost never took them off when he was intimate with her. He liked to watch too much. But tonight he didn't want to see, or to think. He only wanted to _feel_. His world shrunk to the demanding ache between his legs and the soft female body yielding under him.

It wasn't slow or sweet. He moved because his body demanded it, with a violence that astounded him, even as he lost himself in it. Jean was just as wild, writhing under him and thrusting up against him as he rode her hard. The small spikes of pain only drove them both higher. One hand left the edge of the desk and tangled in her hair, pulling hard to secure her to him as he finished. He bit her where neck met shoulder, and pinned her down with the weight of his body as he forced himself as deep as he could go, and came with shocking intensity. His body pulsed rhythmically as he emptied himself with a wet rush of scorching pleasure.

Connected as they were through the link, his release triggered hers and she splintered apart under him. Some primal part of his nature took an obscene amount of satisfaction in holding her hips to his so she could feel his every last spasm as her body milked his. It took him a minute to realize that her hands were no longer clutching at him, but pushing at his chest. He was confused for a split second until an image of what she wanted flashed in his mind's eye.

Still feeling that dark desire to claim her as his, he slid out of her and pushed himself to his feet. He didn't need to see her face to know she was feeling it too, that urge to bind themselves to each other in a way that no words ever could. There was a soft sound from her as she slid from the desk and sank to her knees. Her fingertips skated over his sweaty skin and his fingers buried themselves in the wild tangle of her hair as she took his subsiding erection into her mouth and swirled her tongue over him. The sensation was exquisite on his sensitive flesh, and he groaned aloud as he held her to him.

She'd always liked tasting herself on him. It was another of her odd little quirks, and one he very much liked. He also knew it was another way for her to experience their togetherness, to reaffirm the strength of the connection they shared. She was the only woman who'd ever done this for him and it never ceased to move him. Though he normally didn't make a lot of noise when he was intimate with her, he could never quite keep silent when she did this, and especially not after what had passed between them tonight. It wasn't about sex or arousal, it was about intimacy, and as her soft gentle mouth cleaned his softening flesh, the world faded away and his low groans filled the small space as he gave himself over to her care.

* * *

Next up: Logan's got some things to say...


	3. Shattering Perceptions

**Summary: **Two pairs of eyes witness an intimate moment and see two entirely different things...

* * *

**Shattering Perceptions**

[In the minutes directly following Jean's arrival in Scott's office.]

Meanwhile, down in the kitchen, Logan grabbed another beer to finish off his late night snack and headed back to his room. Despite her concerns, Jean had released him from the lab earlier in the day, but his healing factor was still requiring vast amounts of additional energy. He took another pull from the beer. He was always ravenous when he taxed himself so severely, and this time was no exception. He grunted softly. In the face of so much uncertainty, it was something familiar, something real, he could anchor himself to.

And yet, even _that_ wasn't exactly the same. It had never been so pronounced before. Feeling his life, his very consciousness, flow into Marie was unlike anything he'd ever experienced in all the years he could remember. He'd never before been that close to death, and ironically, he'd never felt more alive. Her presence woke something inside him he hadn't even known existed.

Yes. Too much had changed too quickly.

He was not a man who took easily to change. He might drift from place to place, but the scenery was really the only thing that changed. He drank the same beer, smoked the same brand of cigars, got up when he felt like it and slept when he was tired. He fought the same kinds of men in the same kind of dives, found solace in the arms of the same kind of women, and as always, he searched for answers to the same damn questions that always haunted him. It wasn't much of an existence, but at least it was familiar.

And in all of that – nothing had ever touched him inside. Not until _her_. He still wasn't ready to acknowledge that, so he'd done the next best thing. Flirt with the first woman who'd caught his eye. Again, he'd chosen what was safe. What was familiar. Thrust and parry. Innuendo and retort. It was a game he knew well – and one he played all too frequently. One played in the moment, and forgotten in the next as he moved on from place to place, restlessly looking for some glimmer of his past.

Somehow, he didn't think he'd be able to forget Marie's face as easily. That, too, disturbed him. He felt as if he'd passed into some sort of topsy-turvy world where nothing was the way it should be. His fingers tightened on the glass and he took a long satisfying drink. Hell, even the beer was different here. But then again, it had been a long time since he'd enjoyed a Guinness. The corner of his lip turned up briefly. Someone in this house had some damn fine taste in beer.

Swallowing a dark smile and another mouthful of beer, Logan decided to forgo the elevators in favor of the stairs. Who knew where he might end up in this godforsaken rabbit warren. This place was claustrophobic enough as it was without purposefully sealing himself into that sterile tin can. Again. He paused on his way up the stairs as he caught Jean's scent. She'd passed this way recently. He followed the scent, surprised to find she'd exited on the floor where the staff offices were situated.

Logan grunted. _You gotta be shittin' me._ _Even these geeks can't work this late._ It was nearly 2 AM. With a shrug, he decided he might as well follow her. It was the perfect opportunity to explain the comment he'd made to her in the lab, upon regaining consciousness. The last thing he wanted was for her to get the wrong idea. _Shit._ She was a doctor – and a damn good one. Surely she'd realized he hadn't meant it quite the way it had sounded. He'd been coming out of a coma for christsake. And the fact he'd awakened with thoughts of _her_, of Marie, foremost in his mind was disturbing to say the least. Still, he hadn't been able to keep himself from asking about her with his first conscious breath. A fact he'd tried to remedy by turning 180 degrees in the opposite direction with his second.

An old quote from some forgotten memory surfaced in his mind. Something to the tune of 'methinks he doth protest too much'. An irritated growl rumbled low in his throat. _Shit._ Maybe he was better off just leaving well enough alone. He'd be gone tomorrow, anyway. What difference did it make? An uncharacteristic moment of indecision halted his progress down the hall. Normally, he wouldn't have given two shits about leaving things the way they were… but he had the distinct impression that he hadn't seen the last of this place. A grimace flashed across his harsh features. Even the stupidest animal knew not to soil the place where it slept.

His decision was made for him when the seamless walnut paneling to his left slid aside, revealing yet another elevator. Its lone occupant stepped out, yellow pajamas swishing, as she snapped her gum loudly and gave him an appraising look. She paused and opened her mouth to say something.

_Shit._

Logan knew he probably had about as much right to be wandering the halls as she did at this hour, but he had age and wisdom on his side, and he didn't hesitate to use either to keep her from questioning him about his reasons for being in this particular hall at two in the morning. He was an unknown quantity to her. She needed to know where he fit in the pack hierarchy. Kids weren't stupid. If he appeared even the least bit hesitant, she'd pick up on it. He had to make it clear to her that his position in this pack was above hers.

Logan took a slow sip from his beer and crossed his arms over his chest. "What the hell are you doin' here at this hour, kid?" He watched her dark, intelligent eyes take in his measure and then, just like that, he was firmly ensconced in the Adult-In-Authority category and her body language shifted accordingly.

She waved the paper in her hand at him. "Dude, I'm here 'cause Mr. Summers is an equal opportunity flunker."

Logan looked nonplussed. He raised an eyebrow at her and tried to keep the smile off his face as he followed her down the hall.

"See, he has this policy for exams. The paper was due today in class, but we're allowed to turn them in late, just so long as they're on his desk before he starts class tomorrow." She sighed and popped her gum again. "You'd think he'd cut us a little more slack, what with Magnet Head trying to mutate the Big Apple, but no." She rolled her eyes at him.

Now it wasn't so hard to keep that smile off his face. This is the kind of respect they taught here at the school? _Damn._ This kid definitely needed a lesson in pack dynamics. Shit flows down the chain of command. Not up. He gave her a hard look. "Christ, kid. You think he really gives a shit about that stupid test?"

Jubilee blinked at him in shock. Language aside, she'd never even considered that possibility. She opened her mouth to say something. Exactly what, she wasn't sure.

Logan, however, had other ideas. "Quit runnin' your mouth and listen up. It ain't your place to badmouth Cyke. He's got enough shit to deal with already. He doesn't need your crap ontoppa that." Now that he had her attention, it was time to really open her eyes. "Look around you, kid. Don't let all this-" he waved his hand, indicating the opulence surrounding them, "Blind you to the truth. The war ain't comin'. It's already here - and he's on the front line." His eyes narrowed. "Protectin' your asses so you kids can be students instead of somebody's science project." He subconsciously fingered the tags at his neck.

Jubilee's eyes were wide and her mouth was opening and closing, but no sound was coming out.

_Good._ The kids around here could use a little dose of reality, not to mention a good kick in the ass. He pointed a long, blunt finger at her. "How'd ya like to have the life of every last human in the city restin' on your shoulders, huh? One fuck up on your part and millions of people die." Logan grunted. "Maybe ya oughta think 'bout that the next time you feel like shootin' your mouth off."

Jubilee was stunned for a few moments as her brain tried to wrap itself around Logan's unexpected words, and then, to his surprise, she smiled at him. "Wow, dude. You don't pull any punches, do you?"

His facial expression didn't change. "Nope." He never had before. There was no reason to start now.

Jubilee shrugged. "It's cool, you know?"

Logan raised an eyebrow at her.

"You're the first one here to talk to me like a real person. Not like a stupid kid," she clarified.

Logan grinned. "Figured ya had a brain in there somewhere under all that yellow."

Jubilee's eyes sparkled. "Well, if you've got one under all that hair, then there's gotta be hope for me." For a minute she thought she might have gone too far, until she realized the quiet rumbling sound in his chest wasn't a growl, but a low husky chuckle. "I can see why she likes you."

The chuckling stopped abruptly.

Before he could say anything, she put her hands up in a placating gesture. "I know, I know. Shut up, Jubes." She paused for a moment, reading something in his face, and then shrugged. This time her words carried no sarcasm, only the quiet, solid ring of truth. "I'm not _just_ a stupid kid, you know. I have ears. And eyes. I might not know anything about Mr. Summers' issues, but Rogue's my roommate, and I _know_ about this." A very distinct warning growl sent shivers down her back.

"You don't know jack shit, kid." He pinned her to the wall with a hard stare and one very forceful hand on her shoulder. "And ya keep your trap shut when it comesta her. You get me?" The look on his face brooked no argument.

Jubilee nodded earnestly and mimed zipping her mouth and throwing the key over her shoulder. Logan gave a quiet grunt of assent and released her shoulder, taking another pull from his beer as he looked down the hallway.

Jubilee grinned at him and rubbed her shoulder. "Dude, you didn't have to go and get all 'grrr' on me. She's my girl. I've got her back."

"Glad to hear it." Marie could use someone in her corner. He was aware she hadn't exactly been dealt a stellar hand so far in life. Shitty parents. Shitty mutation. Shitty luck - but she was tough. She didn't complain, and she'd pulled herself up by her own bootstraps. He liked that about her… among other things. _Shit._ He gave Jubilee another hard look. "Aren't you supposedta be turnin' somethin' in or some shit like that?"

"Yeah." She waved the paper in his general direction. "His office is the last one, down around the corner." She looked like she was going to add something, and then thought better of it.

Logan suppressed a grin. _Heh._ At least something he'd said had made an impression. Not that he was trying to make Scott's life easier, but the kids here needed a dose of reality. This place might be a fine environment for learning, but it was so far removed from the harsh reality of the real world, it was laughable. Logan looked around him. _Christ, who lives like this?_

Caught up in his thoughts, he failed to notice the barely audible groans coming from Scott's office until he saw the soft light coming from under the door and through the frosty glass. Suddenly it all clicked into place. The light, the sounds, Jean's scent in the hallway… _Shit. SHIT!_ Jubilee's hand was already turning the knob. "Hey, wait-"

"Nah, it's cool. Mr. Summers leaves it unlocked for us." She pushed the door inward and took a few steps inside before she became aware that the room was… occupied. She froze and let out a squeak of shock as the scene registered in her brain.

Dr. Grey was on her knees – naked – in front of Mr. Summers. His pants were around his ankles and his fingers were threaded in her hair. His head was tipped back and he was making a low sound in his throat that cut off abruptly as soon as he heard her gasp. Jubilee couldn't see any of the good stuff as Jean's body was blocking her view, but that really wasn't what had her attention anyway.

Jean's back was to the door, and in an instant she'd scanned the intruding parties and relayed that information to Scott. _{Logan and Jubilee.}_

_{Fuck.}_ His body tensed and he moved to pull away. A dark, primal thought came unbidden to his mind, but he violently pushed it away. Now was not the time or place to-

_{Do it.} _

He was too close to the edge. Her words burned through his consciousness and something inside him snapped. His fingers tightened in her hair, and instead of pushing her away from him, he pulled her closer and turned his face towards the door, towards Logan. He bared his teeth and made a noise in his throat that stopped just short of becoming a full-fledged snarl.

Though it all happened in a split second, the meaning wasn't lost on Logan. It was quite clearly a gesture that said 'this woman is mine' in the most base way possible.

Logan glanced at Jubilee who was gaping at Scott. "Shit." He took a step forward, pulled the paper from Jubilee's hand and threw it in the general direction of Scott's desk as he grabbed her by the scruff and hauled her from the room. A telekinetic slam of the door quickly followed, as did the sound of the lock engaging.

_It's a little late for that, darlin'._ Logan grunted and pushed Jubilee down the hall toward the elevator.

"OhMyGod. Oh. My. God! Did you see that?"

"Yeah, I saw it." His intelligent gaze had missed nothing. Not the glass on the floor. Not the vivid bite mark on the side of Jean's neck. Not the rivulet of pearly fluid running down the inside of her thigh. And most especially not the look on Scott's face. He knew what Jubilee thought she'd seen. A simple blowjob.

However, he was aware what they'd witnessed was a great deal more than that. Logan knew mate bonding when he saw it. Honestly, it surprised him a little. He hadn't been too sure about Scott, he might be a little green tactically speaking, but it was obvious he knew how to treat his woman. How to show her his dominance and mark his mate properly to bind her to him. Strangely enough, it made him feel better about leaving Marie here. Especially after Scott had bared his teeth at him. He hadn't been expecting that. Well, well. It would seem One Eye had some balls after all.

Logan swallowed a chuckle. He respected a good show of strength. He'd also gotten a pretty good look at Jean's pert little ass, which he knew would annoy Scott to no end. His inner amusement faded as another, more serious thought occurred to him. He never did get to talk to Jean – and he sure as hell didn't want to talk to her now. Not with images of her mouth on Scott still so fresh in his mind. He fingered the tags resting around his neck and thought of Marie. Maybe there was another way to leave a clear indication of the direction his heart lay. One that didn't include talking to Jean.

"Oh. My. God. I still can't believe it!"

"Christ, it was just a blowjob. Get over it already." Not exactly the truth, but she was only seventeen. Some realities could wait a while.

"Duh, dude! I'm talking about his _face_!"

"What the fuck are you gettin' at?" He'd seen Scott's face too, but he was sure Jubilee wouldn't have recognized the possessive snarl aimed at him – nor the meaning behind it.

"Hello? His face! As in Mr. Summers without his glasses. His face. As in his _naked_ face. Oh. My. God! I can't believe I saw it."

Logan chuckled. "Breathe, kid." Luckily for Scott, she seemed more interested in his face than the rest of the skin that had been on display. No matter. He was sure that once the novelty of seeing Scott's face wore off, Jubilee would waste no time in relating the other details of their little midnight encounter. _Heh._ Slim was on his own there. _You play, you pay, bub. _

"Holy crap! You just do _not_ understand." She was a fluttering blur of yellow as she bounced up and down in front of the elevator. "Nobody's seen it. None of us. Like ever! God! Nobody's gonna believe this." She stopped bouncing and met his eyes as another thought occurred to her. "You are going to back me up on this, right?"

Logan grunted in amusement. "Nah. You're on your own there."

"Figures." Grinning, Jubilee rolled her eyes at him as the elevator door silently slid shut.

A low chuckle resonated in the empty hallway. He knew she'd never be able to keep a secret of this magnitude. By tomorrow, it would be all over the school… and he'd be long gone. Besides, Logan knew it would get Scott's goat that he knew and never told a soul – but Scott would know, and every time he looked at Logan, he'd remember that Logan had seen his girl. Naked. _Heh._

Perhaps there was something to be said for returning to this place someday. Someday when Marie was no longer a child. _Shit._ Logan's grin faded at the direction his thoughts had taken as he headed back up the stairs. He touched his tags absently, unable – unwilling – to acknowledge what he knew in his heart to be true. He might be able to run, but he'd never be truly alone again. And the one he instinctively recognized as his mate wouldn't be a little girl forever.

Back in his office, Scott slowly pulled Jean to her feet and rested his forehead against her breastbone as he wrapped his arms tightly around her. He nuzzled her flushed skin softly and pressed a gentle kiss just above her heart. _{I love you.}_

_{Mmmm…}_

Scott straightened, pulling her against his chest and buried his face in her hair. Despite the untimely interruption, the feeling of intense closeness lingered. A feeling made that much more potent because of what Logan had witnessed. He turned her slowly, hugging her to him as he left tiny butterfly kisses on her neck. He simply couldn't keep from touching her. Not after what they'd shared tonight. Scott smiled against her skin and dropped his head to her shoulder.

_{I don't suppose either of us is going to develop the power to turn back time before Jubilee tells the entire school what she saw tonight?}_ He gave her a squeeze and felt her soft chuckle against his chest.

Jean snorted into his mind. _{You're worried? It wasn't you on your knees here, Slim.}_

Scott chuckled and pinched her backside playfully as he gently set her from him and bent to pull up his jeans. The motion was unhurried and utterly without modesty or self-consciousness. This was hardly the first time they'd been intimate outside their bedroom. It was just the first time they'd been caught. And although their words were light, they were both acutely aware of the deeper implications of what had passed between them tonight.

Not that they'd been seen – that was bound to happen eventually – but that Scott had held her to him because he'd wanted to send a clear message to Logan – and that Jean had wanted him to. In fact, had urged him to do so.

It was a little surprising for both of them. They were usually far more reserved. Maybe not with each other, but certainly in front of other people. Neither of them were quite ready to talk about it. Not yet. It was still too fresh in their minds, and both of them were far too spent, too satiated to want to do anything else but fall into bed and slip off to sleep, wrapped around each other. Tomorrow, and all its realities, would be here soon enough.

Scott heard the whisper soft sound of fabric sliding over Jean's skin and a moment later, she pressed his glasses into his hand.

_{Thanks, sweetheart.}_ He slid them on and couldn't help but smile at the picture Jean presented. She did indeed look well loved. Her lips were slightly bruised, her skin was flushed with passion, and her hair was a wild tangle of red curls. His eyes slid lower and the smile got wider – and darker – as his eyes came to rest on the mark he'd left on her neck.

Slowly, deliberately, he brushed the pad of this thumb over the vivid mark and waited until she met his gaze through the ruby lenses. Despite their earlier teasing, this time there was no amusement in his words. _{You are mine, Jean.}_ The tone of his mental voice was possessive… and defiant. As if he half expected her to refute his roughly made claim.

A beautiful smile turned up the corners of her lush mouth and warmed her cool green eyes. _{Always.}_ She touched his mouth gently with her fingertips. _{I'm always your girl, Scott. Always.} _She sighed softly and laced her fingers with his. _{Now come to bed, flyboy. I have a feeling tomorrow is going to come much earlier than either of us would like.}_

Scott chuckled darkly. _{I have a feeling you're right.}_ He grinned the 'Summers' grin'. _{And I think it's going to be a very, very long time before either of us lives this one down.}_ His hand squeezed hers tightly. _{Now let's go to bed, Jean.}_

_{Sounds good to me, Tarzan.}_ She squeezed him back and shot him a wink as he flipped off the light and closed the door.

* * *

Next up: Sharp!Scott gets revenge...


	4. Revenge is Sweet

**Revenge is Sweet**

[Three years post film.]

Scott lay on the floor of the garage, wrist deep in an engine, a small satisfied smile touching his mouth. Sure, one of the kids could be doing this job, but the fact was he _liked_ tinkering with the professor's automobiles, particularly this one – the Shelby – even if it was something as mundane as changing the oil. He dropped a tool and swore as it clattered out of his reach.

Bobby heard the muffled curse and chuckled. "Need a hand there, fearless?"

Scott bit back a grin as he wiped his greasy fingers on an equally greasy rag. "No, icicle, I need the gasket and a cold beer." See, that was the beauty of working with Bobby. Not only was he decent help, but they didn't even need a refrigerator to keep the beer cold. One touch from Bobby and it was good to go.

"Can do." With an amused snort, Bobby wordlessly toed the wayward tool back within reach as he moved to get the requested items. His steps paused as a soft throaty cry disturbed the relative quiet. A cry that sounded a lot like Rogue.

Underneath the car, Scott smirked.

A minute later, Bobby crouched down beside the car and his arm appeared, items in hand. "Um, wasn't that…?"

Scott took the beer first and glanced at his watch. That was the second time he'd heard Rogue in the last fifteen minutes. Bobby hadn't heard the first one. He'd been in the bathroom when her first soft groan had echoed through the garage. His wicked smile got bigger before he managed to reign himself in. He shouldn't. He _knew_ he shouldn't… but for once, he just couldn't resist. "Wasn't that _what_?" He mentally congratulated himself. It took some serious effort to get that out with an even voice or a guilty, tell tale pause in his work.

Scott felt the electric tingle of Jean's mind in his. _{Shame on you! You know perfectly well what's going on in Rogue's studio.} _Her words were scolding, but the tone was teasing.

_{Hmm… Do I?}_ Scott grinned. Bobby was still sputtering and he always liked it when Jean pretended outrage.

_{Of course.}_ Her mental laughter was warm and silvery. _{It's the same thing you and I were doing in the garage earlier.}_

Scott suppressed a chuckle. Telepaths were notorious gossips and Jean was no exception. _{Come on, sweetheart, you're just as bad – or are you going to try to tell me you aren't 'listening' in?}_

He felt the heat of Jean's mental blush. _{Hey, if they were projecting any louder-}_

Scott's laughter, rich and warm, filled her mind. _{Busted.}_ He paused for effect. _{Bad girls get spanked, you know.}_

_{Only if they're lucky.}_ She shot back.

Now that had some definite possibilities. _{So I hear.}_ His words were bone dry, but he knew she'd catch his meaning.

_{Scott!}_ She'd felt Rogue's mental shock as Logan gave her a playful spank, but surely Scott hadn't heard it.

_{You bet your ass I did.}_

Another throaty groan broke the thick silence.

Bobby cleared his throat. "Um, that sounded a lot like Rogue. You – you don't think she's hurt or anything, do you, Scott?"

Scott slid out from under the car and wiped his hands on the rag as he rose to his feet. "I don't know, Bobby. Why don't we find out?" God, keeping the smirk from his face was killing him.

_{Scott! You aren't!}_

_{I sure as hell am. I've waited a long time for this.}_

Jean snickered. _{Remind me not to piss you off anytime soon.}_

_{Hey, if I was really evil, I'd have walked in on them twenty minutes ago.}_

_{You are a devious, devious man, Scott Summers.}_

_{Yeah? Good thing you love that about me.}_ He laughed again. _{You are going to 'listen in' aren't you?}_ Scott resisted the urge to tap his temple. Bobby might be a little naïve, but he wasn't stupid.

_{Are you kidding? It was my naked backside he saw-}_

_{Don't remind me.}_ It still pissed him off to think about it. True to his word, Logan had never said anything, but Scott knew he knew – and any time Logan really wanted to get Scott's goat, he'd give Jean a little leer and smirk at Scott. He didn't ever say anything. He didn't have to. That look said it all. It was quite clearly a look that said 'she may be your woman, but I've seen her naked'. And it never failed to drive Scott up the wall. The Wolverine was going to pay for that.

Dearly.

Scott spared a glance at Bobby. Oh yeah, this was going to be good. Actually, he couldn't have planned it any better. A witness was just what he needed. Someone to spread the story he couldn't and wouldn't. Bobby was a hundred times more discreet than Jubilee, and the whole school probably wouldn't know, but the Junior and Senior teams sure as hell would –

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA AAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH HHHHHHH!"

– If they didn't already. Scott snorted. He was really, _really_ going to enjoy this.

"Shit, Scott. That sounded bad. I've never heard Rogue scream like that. Not even in the Danger Room." His concern was evident.

Scott grit his teeth together to keep the laughter in. This was going to kill him. It really was. He shot Bobby an unreadable look. "I've never heard her scream like that either." _Not in the Danger Room anyway_, he added silently. In point of fact, he _had_ heard Rogue scream like that – but only because Logan's room was right down the hall from theirs.

As they rounded the last corner of the long hall that separated the garage from Rogue's studio and appeared in the open doorway, Scott pasted on his best 'fearless leader' face and tried for a properly concerned tone. "Rogue! Are you - um, oh."

_Hot damn._ This was even better than he'd expected. The door was wide open for God's sake. A very naked Rogue jumped behind an equally naked Logan – but not before he'd seen all the good parts. _Hmmm… Nice. Very nice…_

_{Watch it, flyboy.}_

Scott swallowed a chuckle and schooled his features into what he hoped would pass for embarrassment – with a touch of resigned duty thrown in for good measure. "Sorry, we heard screaming. We thought it was, ah, in-trouble screaming, not, er, the other kind of screaming." _Yup. Perfect._ And he was sure to include the 'we' for good measure, even though Bobby was hiding behind him with his eyes firmly affixed on the floor.

Logan crossed his arms over his chest and stared defiantly at Scott. A gesture that only emphasized his nudity – and the fact that both his mouth and his penis were still wet.

Oh yes, he'd be able to use this for _years_. This was even better than Logan's 'I've seen your woman naked' look. This was 'I've seen your woman naked and I'm aware there are certain things that do bring the Wolverine to his knees'.

Jean's mental laughter rang clearly in Scott's head. She very much liked that idea. She'd certainly heard enough 'on-your-knees' jokes directed at her over the last few years. She was definitely going to enjoy dishing out a few of her own.

Logan's nostrils flared and he raised an eyebrow at Scott. He was all too aware Slim's visit had nothing to do with concern and everything to do with putting them back on even footing. And maybe that was so, but that didn't stop Logan from baiting him.

"She's fine." A subtle, purposeful lick of his bottom lip got his point across perfectly. "Doin' real good as a matter of fact."

Scott's mouth thinned. It was on the tip of his tongue to tell Logan he was already aware of that fact. Hell, half the school had probably heard that last shout, but he was only aiming to level the playing field a bit, not to humiliate Rogue – who was not only new to sex, but apparently quite a bit more modest than Logan. _Too bad. She has a really great pair of-_

_{Scott!}_

"Logan!" Rogue's very pink skin got even darker.

Scott bit back a grin. "Sorry to have interrupted." _But not as sorry as Logan will be later._ "Would you two mind, ah, taking it upstairs? I don't want any children wandering around down here and – and getting a little more of an education than we were planning for them, ok?"

_{Now that's laying it on a little thick considering we were doing exactly the same thing when we got caught.}_

Scott's mental amusement flickered through Jean's mind. _{Why do you think I said it? And besides – at least we had the door shut.}_

_{You're enjoying this far too much, you know.}_ Her mental scolding would have been far more effective if it hadn't been accompanied by her mirth.

_{Absolutely.}_ There wasn't even a hint of remorse in his cocky, bemused response and he felt Jean's laughter through their shared link.

Logan bared his teeth at Scott. "Whatever." It was more a growl than a word.

"We're going upstairs right now." Scott nearly burst out laughing at the look Rogue flung at Logan's back. It quite clearly said that Mr. Dominant wasn't going to be making another public appearance anytime soon. "Sorry, Scott."

Scott grinned and winked at her. "No problem." Apparently they both caught the wink because Marie blushed again and Logan's body language changed from annoyed to possessive and threatening.

"Grrrr…."

Yes, it was definitely time to go. Logan wasn't exactly known for his restraint. A fact he was very much going to enjoy using to his advantage the next time Logan tried to give him the 'I've seen your woman naked' look.

Scott turned and marched a flame-faced Bobby from the room, unable to completely keep the satisfied smirk from his face. Bobby stammered an excuse… something about wanting to be out of 'claw range' once Logan had some pants on, and he disappeared down the hallway.

Whistling softly, Scott headed back down the hall toward the garage. Back to the Shelby and his beer.

_{Feeling pretty smug, aren't you?}_

Scott grinned. _{Hmm… Was that as good for you as it was for me, honey?}_

A silvery peal of laughter rang in his head. _{You are seriously disturbed. I'm a doctor. I'd know.}_

With a low chuckle, Scott lowered himself to the floor and slid back under the car. _{Absolutely.}_

Jean was silent a moment. _{Thanks, Tarzan.}_ She was a good sport, but she'd had her fill of Logan's 'looks'.

He picked up the discarded gasket. _{You bet, sweetheart.}_ He always looked out for his girl. Always.

And as he got back to work, a very satisfied smile spread across his face. Life was good. Logan was – at least for the moment – on the retreat. Jean was happy. He had grease on his hands, and revenge was most definitely sweet.


End file.
